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A Letter From The Kid Who Didn’t Get A Bid, And The Rush Chair’s Response

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Garrett is attending a prominent university with his best friend Dustin. They are both freshmen, rooming together, and they just finished rushing their favorite fraternity, Delta, the only one they sought bids from.

Garrett didn’t get his bid. He wrote an email to the rush chair. Here it is:

The Email

Dear Carl, Delta Rush Chair:

Hopefully you remember me. My name is Garrett. I rushed Delta with my roommate Dustin. We were both suicide rushees. “Delta or nothing” was our motto, and man, we had a great time! Thanks for an awesome experience at your rush parties. It was the best couple weeks I’ve ever had in my young life. It’s a shame it had to end so soon.

Anyway, you guys handed out your official bids last night. The reason I know this is because my buddy Dustin got a bid.

“Where were you last night, cockface?” he barked at me this morning while shaking off last night’s bender.

Not me, though. Last night, I was sober as the day I was born. I’m sure you know why, too. It’s because I didn’t party with Dustin last night, or anyone else for that matter, and that’s because I wasn’t invited to the Delta bid celebration.

“Oh, well I just hung out here and played some pool with a few neighbors from down the hall,” I replied to Dustin.

“You turn gay on me or somethin’?” he asked.

“I wasn’t invited to receive my bid, you dick. They do have my phone number, right?”

“Fuck if I know.”

So, I was wondering…do you have my number? If so, why no call? Where’s my bid? Was it a simple oversight, or do you really think I’m not Delta material? Surely not the latter. I hit it off with every brother I spoke to during rush. I’m pretty disappointed, but we can get this straightened out.

The following reasons are just two examples of why I’m convinced it was a simple mistake:

1. I pumped the keg all night on Saturday.

Brother Joseph called me over to the keg out on the patio, really early on in the evening, and asked that I do him “a solid.” The solid was to work the keg for the remainder of the evening. You know, pumping it, filling cups, and talking to folks (mainly girls haha… *wink*). Naturally, I obliged. Rain or shine, I’ll do whatever it takes for the Deltas. Good thing, too, because it was raining sideways outside for the duration of the party and there was absolutely no cover on the patio. Rain was stinging my face and eyeballs!

The way Brother Joseph described the task to me was to keep the cups full and the women loose. He said I was a perfect candidate for keg duty because I was an awesome conversationalist, and since I was going to study Engineering in school I could use the opportunity to “study how kegs work, and shit.”

He was totally looking out for me. Funny, too. What a guy!

I was thinking, “What better way to work the crowd and show off my dazzling personality?” I missed out on some dancing and what sounded like a rousing game of flip cup, but I met all kinds of awesome people out there.

So, thank you for that responsibility, even though you owe me a new pair of Sperrys after the rain ruined mine. Haha JK. They were brand new, though.

2. I played one hell of a wingman.

One of the guys — not sure whether he was a rushee or one of the active brothers — needed me to step up like Goose and wingman the shit out of a potentially bad situation. I saved the day, though, because that’s the kind of brother I’m going to be one day. You’ll see.

Here’s how it happened…

The guy (Scott maybe?) called me into a side bedroom. I walked in, and it was dark as hell in there. I could barely even see if there was anyone in the room. But there was — a large, amoeba-like figure laying down in the distance. The next thing I know he grabs me by the arm, kinda hurt actually, and slings me onto a bed and into the arms of what I can only describe as a beastly, rotund, monster of a woman.

She was clearly all horned up and ready to go. I’m guessing she was friends with some super hot chick that Scott was about to get down to Poundtown with or something, but the next 20 minutes of my life were quite an unpleasant experience to say the least. I’m not even sure what to call what she did to me, but I’m pretty sure I could press charges for it if I wanted to. I’m also pretty sure I was face-deep in an armpit at one point, or maybe it was a thigh or some kind of crevasse I hadn’t even discovered yet. Whatever it was, it’s not supposed to be a featured body part in a sexual encounter.

I think she was an exotic gal, like Samoan or something. I’m not really sure, but she smelled something awful.

But like I said, ANYTHING for Delta!

Let me know if I should come by the house to pick up my official bid. Or if not, you’ll be seeing me next semester, because I won’t stop rushing until I can pledge Delta!

I look forward to your response.

God Bless,

Garrett Epperman
Delta, Class of 2013???

PS. I wrote this in the library instead of studying for my Chem final. LOL! I’m totally gonna fail now. Took me like three hours to write this! But that just shows my dedication to becoming a Delta.


The Response

Dear Garrett, the kid who didn’t get a bid:

Let’s be clear here, man. The only reason you were allowed into our rush parties was because of your buddy Dustin, who, by the way, is about to get hazed within an inch of his life for being friends with you.

Never Your Friend,

Carl P.
Delta Rush Chair

P.S. Don’t waste your time rushing next semester.

P.P.S. Call Joseph “Brother Joseph” again and I’ll have sex with your mother.

P.P.P.S. I just typed this up from the shitter.

Sent from my iPhone


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Dillon Cheverere

Dillon Cheverere (@DCheverere) is the Vice President of Media for Grandex, Inc. Email:

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